


The Murmurs of Winter

by SoupyGoopy



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Oooo spoooooky, bad gore as usual, based on the erlking, teehee elfs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoupyGoopy/pseuds/SoupyGoopy
Summary: Empty promises of desires that are too good to be true.
Relationships: Clementine/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running), but i'll put in the actual ship anyways bc why not, subtle if you squint clementine/violet
Kudos: 4





	The Murmurs of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> hey, i wrote this for a lil fanfic contest and decided to upload it here too for funsies. 
> 
> hope yall like it :)

Every once in a while she heard little footsteps. 

“AJ?” 

The little tip taps of light footsteps that rustled leaves. 

“AJ!”

She never saw anything though, the trees were too thick and tall to let moonlight enter. 

“Look over there dammit!”

It was winter.

Anxiety thrummed in her veins and a hopelessly heavy weight wobbled in her chest while her joints ached with the cold, fingers so frigid they could barely move.

She watched her breath hang in the air and disappear like smoke. She was running out of time. 

Another twig snapped.

\---

Sometimes she heard whispers in the dark. They called out to her, begging her to come with them for security. For happiness. For relief. 

For Lee. 

Sometimes she reached out for them, her wisps of breath dissipating and breaking at the wave of her shaky hand. 

\---  
It was terrifying to go to the fishing shed alone. Temptations clawed at her soft mushy brain like how a walker’s rotten teeth ripped through flesh. She always went with Violet or Louis or with whoever would accompany her. 

She thinks it’s mostly because they were more scared of what she would do rather than them actually caring, but it never mattered to her. 

Because the rustles never stopped. The whispers never stopped. They just followed her.

Deeper and deeper into her mind. Into her home. Into her blood.

She wanted to crack her skull against the brick of Ericson’s and tear her slippery brainstem from her spinal cord. Red splatters would be a great decoration to the dull overgrown vines and moss anyways.

\---  
She saw it in the wisps of her breath. 

When she asked Violet if she saw them too, Violet cried. 

\---  
Her hands were looking a little too thin these days. She had an urge to grab a hammer and slam it into them until they were crooked and spiky. Muscles so deformed it swelled and stretched like taffy. Thick clots running down and catching on the hair of her arm. Hot and deep deep deep deep deep red.

She saw it in the nasty bluish green of her veins. 

\---

She saw it in the cracks of her room. Right next to a drawing her little goofball made. She used the paper as a fire starter for that night’s dinner.

Chop chop chop goes the axe against the corpse’s arm but whisper whisper whisper goes the lips against her ear.

Whisper whisper whisper. 

Whisper whisper.

Whisper.

They were whispers but they were screams.

\---

Sometimes she felt caresses on her cheek that reminded her of how Lee would comfort her. 

And it felt so good to take his hand.


End file.
